


Still Just Breathing

by Python07



Series: A Fixed Point [4]
Category: Doctor Who & Related Fandoms, Doctor Who (1963), Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Fluff and Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-02
Updated: 2016-05-02
Packaged: 2018-06-05 23:58:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 842
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6728539
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Python07/pseuds/Python07
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A quiet moment.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Still Just Breathing

Exhaustion. Anxiety. Relief. Physical exertion. It was enough to make the Doctor sleep six hours instead of three. He woke in a familiar and yet not familiar bed. He was on his side with Alistair spooned behind him.

Alistair was warm wrapped around him, skin to skin. Even in sleep, Alistair’s presence was all around him and inside his head. It was a cocoon of reassurance and strength. It offered a moment of peace that he desperately wanted.

It was almost overwhelming and somewhat frightening. He had a funny feeling in the pit of his stomach. He didn’t understand it.

He had a brief wild thought to jump out of bed, scramble into his clothes, and run back to the TARDIS. Instead, he nudged Alistair onto his back and turned to face him. He propped himself up on his elbow to watch Alistair sleep.

Alistair grunted softly but didn’t wake. His face was open and unburdened. He didn’t stir when the Doctor lightly traced the lines on his face, his cheekbones, and his lips.

The Doctor flashed back to his previous self, his posh James Bond period. He’d had a flair for the dramatic back then. Frilly shirts, cape, and his beloved Bessie. He’d been so arrogant and superior, but Alistair called him on his bullshit.

He remembered many mornings, just watching Alistair sleep. In that quiet time, the ache of not being able to travel in time and space, of his exile to Earth, was more than bearable. That quiet time was a gift whether the Time Lords meant it as such or not.

“I hate to break it to you, but you can still be arrogant, superior, and overly dramatic. It’s ingrained in you.”

The Doctor jumped when Alistair suddenly took his hand. “Sorry,” he squeaked. His face flushed in embarrassment. He tried to pull away, but Alistair didn’t let go.

“It’s just worse in some incarnations.” Alistair had a lazy smile on his face as he held the Doctor’s hand on his chest, over his heart. He didn’t bother opening his eyes. His voice was low and rough from sleep. “It’s all right. Not the first time I’ve woken up to you watching me.”

The Doctor stared at their hands. “It seems I can’t help myself.” He shook his head. “It’s weird. It’s weird, right?”

Alistair opened his eyes. He chuckled warmly. “No. Perfectly normal for you.” He slipped his free arm around the Doctor. He trailed his fingers up and down the Doctor’s spine. “Relax.”

“I’m trying. I just…I’m…” the Doctor’s voice trailed off in frustration.

“Breathe, Doctor. This is still a safe place.” Alistair continued rubbing the Doctor’s back. “I know that you can’t talk too much about the future, but do you want to talk about what drove you to seek me out this time?”

The Doctor huffed out a humorless laugh. “Oh, just another day for me. The Earth in peril. Missy playing her games with me.” 

Alistair wrinkled his nose in distaste. “Missy.”

One end of the Doctor’s mouth quirked up. “She’s still bananas. I doubt that will ever change. She did what she did.” He stopped meeting Alistair’s gaze and dropped his voice to barely above a whisper. “And Clara said that everything that happened was my fault if I ever let Missy live.”

Alistair ran his hand through the Doctor’s hair. “Clara is your companion this time around.”

“My friend.” The Doctor unconsciously tilted his head towards the touch. “And yes, up until recently.”

“I doubt she meant it,” Alistair replied with quiet conviction.

“No,” the Doctor sighed heavily. He swallowed. “But the way she looked at me, the way she’s always looked at me…”

“What do you mean?”

The Doctor shut his eyes and grimaced. “Let’s just say my previous self was more to her tastes; youthful, affectionate, open. It’s gotten better but I still had to let her go. She’ll be happier with a normal life.”

Alistair raised their hands to kiss the Doctor’s palm. He put their hands back down on his chest. “What about you?”

The Doctor couldn’t breathe for a moment. Then he blew out a shaky breath. “It doesn’t matter.” 

Alistair guided the Doctor’s head down to rest on his chest, next to their hands. He continued stroking the Doctor’s hair. “You’re a good man, Doctor.”

The Doctor relaxed against Alistair. “Am I? I’m not so sure.”

Alistair gently squeezed the back of the Doctor’s neck. “I am.”

“You don’t know some of the things I’ve done,” the Doctor protested but his hearts weren’t in it.

Alistair’s hand swept back down the Doctor’s back. “It doesn’t matter. Your appearance and personality quirks may change, but I know you”

The Doctor kissed Alistair’s chest. “I’m not used to others taking care of me.”

Alistair laughed quietly. “Even you need it on occasion.”

“How much longer are you on leave?”

Alistair stroked back up the Doctor’s back. “Three more days. Are you staying?” he murmured against the Doctor’s hair.

The Doctor started nuzzling Alistair’s neck. “I’ll stay.”


End file.
